(i know the hours from the stiffness of your lips)
ticking is the sound we make
when we are too tired to talk
you are a clock:
bad luck to give and receive
an unhandy, inconvenient version
of something i can so easily don on my wrist
you are a clock:
left at home
— a place i rarely visit
these days
ticking is the sound we make
when we are too tired to talk
my heart: it bleeds.
(i've been reading more poetry books — do not blame me if this reflects in my writing.. this piece was particularly hasty; i wrote it in two minutes while lying on my bed)